


Verification

by triste



Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How very perverted, Your Majesty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Verification

Title: Verification  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: No. 6  
Pairing: Nezumi/Shion  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

 

It’s something that catches him by surprise every time he sees his reflection, and this time is no different. Shion pauses in front of the mirror on his way past it, unable to look away as he takes in the sight of himself, skin pink and scrubbed clean from the shower, the red mark that winds its way around his body as vivid as ever.

 _Are you really me?_ he wonders, reaching out to touch the glass with his fingertips. It’s like he’s staring at a stranger, like he doesn’t even recognise himself anymore. He doesn’t hate it. He just hasn’t got used to it yet. Sometimes he doesn’t think he ever will.

“I knew it.” Nezumi’s voice makes Shion jump. “You really do get a kick out of looking at yourself naked.”

“That’s not true,” Shion argues. It doesn’t count as being nude when he’s wearing a towel around his hips. “I was thinking.”

“About?”

It’s not easy for Shion to put his feelings into words, but that usually seems to be the case when he’s with Nezumi. “How surreal it is to have my appearance change overnight. How long it’s taking for me to come to terms with that. Oh,” he adds, hastily, “but I don’t regret it. I’m glad to be alive. No matter how much the rest of me changes, that fact won’t. And I’m very grateful to you for saving me.”

Nezumi steps up behind him, his gaze meeting Shion’s in the mirror. “What’s so weird about it?” he asks.

“Everything, I suppose,” says Shion, tugging at his bangs. “I stand out more now.” He’s always been average in appearance, the kind of person who could be found on any street, in any city, in any country.

“And you call that a bad thing?”

Shion shakes his head. He doesn’t resent turning out this way. “It doesn’t really suit me.”

The pissed off expression Shion is so familiar with darkens Nezumi’s face. Even when he’s scowling, he’s still handsome. “It’s proof,” he says firmly, “that you’re not who you used to be. It’s verification that you’re alive. Isn’t that enough?”

They’ve had this conversation before. Shion remembers having his palm placed on Nezumi’s chest and being asked, “What do you feel?” He finds himself re-enacting the moment when he takes Nezumi’s left hand and guides it to his heart. It beats as strongly now as Nezumi’s did back then.

Maybe it’s selfish of him, but he can’t help wanting more.

“Show me,” Shion urges.

Nezumi’s scowl softens. Apparently he’s feeling generous tonight. “Keep watching, then.”

So Shion does, his gaze fixed on their reflections. Nezumi’s right hand splays over his stomach, graceful fingers undoing Shion’s towel and letting it fall to the floor. He’s so fascinated by Nezumi that he doesn’t even notice himself at first, but then he sees his reflection and wonders when he started making such expressions. He’s sure he’s never looked this captivated before.

“You always look at me like that,” Nezumi tells him, his tongue warm and wet on Shion’s shoulder.

“Really?” It’s difficult to believe. He looks so in awe, so entranced.

“You can’t lie. You’re too honest. Even if you can’t find the right words to describe how you feel, the emotion shows on your face as clear as day.”

Shion’s eyes widen in wonder. It’s all so new to him. He’s learning things he never knew before, about himself, about Nezumi, about the fact that he’s this expressive and he’s never even been aware of it.

“It’s not just that,” Nezumi continues, his smirk wicked and calculated. “You should hear the noises you make when I’m fucking you.”

A blush blooms over Shion’s cheeks, but he can’t deny the thrill of excitement that shoots sparks through his veins. His mouth is dry so he swallows hard and licks his lips. “I want to see it,” he whispers, as shameless as the whore who came onto him in the market. “In the mirror. What I look like when I’m being fucked.”

He doesn’t even stammer. The words come out far too easily. It’s quite an accomplishment.

“How very perverted, Your Majesty,” Nezumi says smoothly, running a thumb along the nape of Shion’s neck. “Allow me to grant your wish. But first, we must undertake the appropriate preparations.”

It’s just a fancy way of telling Shion to stay put while he goes to fetch the lube.

“Wait,” says Shion, latching onto Nezumi’s arm before he can disappear and tilting his face up. “Please.”

Nezumi gives him what he’s asking for, his teeth sharp and insistent as they nip at Shion’s lower lip, sucking it between his own until Shion leans up onto his tip toes and presses closer. The kiss is wet and messy, and Shion moans loudly as he rubs his nipples against Nezumi’s shirt, squirming and panting and aching for more, but Nezumi shoves him away and wipes the back of his hand roughly over his mouth.

Shion watches him leave, leaning back against the mirror and shivering at the sensation of cold glass sticking to his heated skin. He really isn’t who he used to be. His mother raised him to be a good boy, a polite boy, and yet here he is saying things that would have made his old self cringe in humiliation. It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing, but at least he isn’t running away from what he wants. It’s all because of Nezumi for changing him beyond recognition, for being such a bad influence with his dirty mouth, for doing all these *things* to him that wear away at Shion’s inhibitions bit by bit.

And he loves it.

Nezumi doesn’t take long. He’s ditched his clothes along the way, stroking his cock leisurely. It glistens in the lamplight, slick with lubricant, and Shion gives a strangled whimper. “Enjoying the view?”

But Shion doesn’t have the chance to appreciate it because Nezumi is motioning for him to turn around. He braces his hands on either side of the mirror, bending at the waist and spreading his legs. “Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” says Nezumi, running a fingertip along Shion’s spine from top to bottom. “It’s good.” He laughs at the way Shion lifts his hips in response to the fleeting caress. “Nice and eager. I like that.”

Shion can’t tell whether Nezumi is praising him or making fun of him. It’s nothing unusual. He’s been a bundle of contradictions for as long as Shion has known him.

And then Nezumi’s fingers stretch him open, slow and teasing, Shion watching his reactions through half-lidded eyes, amazed all over again that he can actually make these kinds of faces, that he does it so effortlessly. He learns forward, breath fogging up the glass, so he licks it away. His reflection stares back at him, face flushed, pupils dilated, lips wet and swollen, and Shion kisses it, closing his eyes and humming low in his throat.

“Damn it, Shion,” Nezumi growls, yanking his fingers free. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Shion asks, clueless as always to the cause of Nezumi’s irritation.

“Being so stupidly sexy.”

Shion wants to say that he isn’t doing it on purpose (he’s working very hard to remember how if it means getting reactions like these from Nezumi), but the most he can manage is a breathless “oh god” as Nezumi positions himself and begins to push inside. The glass is getting misty again from his panting, still sticky with saliva smears. It’s a struggle not to squeeze his eyes shut while all his other senses are threatening to overwhelm him, crying out at the burn as Nezumi slides in deeper, only stopping when his balls are nestled tight against Shion’s ass.

Nezumi is right. He does make noise. Quite a lot of it, in fact, and he can’t seem to shut up. He’s as full of questions as ever (“Is it good?” “Am I doing it right?”), but since he’s somehow lost the ability to produce coherent speech, they only come out as heartfelt moans and shuddering sighs.

“Keep watching,” Nezumi orders, one hand braced over Shion’s, the other curling around his cock.

Shion groans in affirmative, but he’s distracted from looking at himself when his gaze meets Nezumi’s in the mirror. His eyes are dark and dangerous, and Shion is as drawn to them now as he was when they first met. He’s biting his lip, his expression one of fierce concentration as he withdraws just enough to thrust back in again, and Shion thinks that he’d like to bite it, too, the way Nezumi is always biting him, partly out of curiosity, partly out of sheer revenge.

If Shion makes sexy look stupid, then Nezumi makes it look effortless. Just seeing him like this is enough to make Shion shake with desire, but then he hears the way Nezumi moans, raw and ragged and desperate, and he’s sure he could come right there and then simply from hearing the sound of it.

He tries to at least call Nezumi’s name, but he can’t even manage that much because Nezumi is picking up the pace already, hips smacking against the backs of Shion’s thighs, and he’s not being careful or gentle about it, not at all, because he knows Shion can take it, that he likes it like this.

“Oh,” is the best Shion can do, Nezumi forcing it out of him with every thrust, “oh, oh, oh,” and then Nezumi’s fingers twist tighter around his cock, jerking him off roughly. Nezumi grunts out a curse, angling his body over Shion’s and closing his teeth down hard on the side of his neck. It’s going to leave a bruise, but that’s his intention, and Shion likes that most of all, being branded, being claimed, knowing that he belongs to Nezumi, that he has the evidence to show for it.

It only takes a few more strokes for Nezumi to bring him off, and it’s not much longer before Nezumi follows. Shion groans at the loss when he pulls out. He wishes they could have stayed connected a little while longer, but his legs give out seconds later and he falls to the floor, touching trembling fingers to the place that Nezumi has marked out on his neck. He could hide it easily with the collar of his shirt, but he doesn’t want to. He’s more than happy to leave it for everyone can see.

Nezumi looks smug when Shion glances up at him, either because of his handiwork or because of the fact that he’s just had some really fantastic sex. It’s Nezumi, so probably both. In any case, he’s well and truly satisfied. And he’s not the only one. Shion doesn’t need the mirror anymore to know that he is too.

 

End.


End file.
